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Death
March 23, 2010
Nonthing has touched me like this
It all hangs in the balance of things.Things that would describe the feeling.
something bad would happen.Or someone was going to die. The smell of decaying organisms feel the air. Every little flower wethers and dies in a blink of an eye.
A charcold dark midnight. The ticking of a huge father clock scares you. The sound of wolfs howling gives you goose bumps. Wind blowing your hair gives you shilvers
© Anonymous
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